


Darker the Night

by Amledo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Familial Abuse, Friendship, Good Voldemort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Dudley, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 16:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amledo/pseuds/Amledo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Harry returns from his 4th year at Hogwarts, his Uncle Vernon welcomes him home with violence that Harry has come to expect.  Thankfully, Dudley, his cousin and fellow wizard is there to step up and heal Harry.  When the truth about Voldemort's return is revealed, everything changes for both teens and one Petunia Dursley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darker the Night

**Author's Note:**

> I have seriously never done anything like this before. But I have seen it go over well on FFN so I wanted to post it here and ask if any of you thought that it was worth it for me to upload the second half.

He curled in on himself, suppressing the urge to sob, knowing that he was going to be in more trouble if he even dared to be so loud as to yawn. But his body hurt, aching in fiery brands along the oozing cuts, and throbbing in heartbeat tempo in the bone-deep bruises. The beating hadn't been one he'd seen coming, and he had been unable to call any of his accidental magic to protect him. It had been easier when he was a child, before he knew what it was to be a wizard and to have control over his magic.

Back then, if he screwed his eyes shut and wished hard enough, then the blows would fall more softly, the edge of the belt would leave more shallow cuts, and his Uncle's rage would die more quickly. With his wand though, and his magic having had an outlet most of the year, he had nothing left with which to protect himself. So he lie twisted up into a ball on the army cot that was his bed, his hands clasped around his chest, trying to put just the right pressure on cracked ribs. And he prayed that he wouldn't cry.

He could hear the sounds of his Aunt and Uncle preparing for a night out in their bedroom down the hall, talking animatedly about the society people that would be attending. Earlier in the night, sometime after Harry had returned to consciousness, he had heard Petunia trying to goad Dudley into a night out with them. But the young man, now 14 like Harry, would simply not hear it, insisting that they were only going to eat garbage that would put him over weight for wrestling. Being the easily controlled mother that she was, Petunia had given in and indulged her son. After all, she and Vernon were so proud that he'd lost the weight.

"Bye Mum, bye Dad!" Dudley called loudly from his room, right next to Harry's. The front door clicked shut with a soft thump and the roar of Vernon's company car starting up soon followed. Harry breathed slowly through his nose and pulled his head up from where it had been tucked against his knees. Tires rolled smoothly over the concrete drive and his Aunt and Uncle sped away for a night that was sure to include heavy drinking on the part of his Uncle. Hopefully, he would be so drunk that he forgot about the nephew lying locked up in the smallest bedroom of the house. Sometimes he was lucky enough that the 'Dudley's Second Bedroom' sign, kept the man out.

Harry could only moan weakly as he pushed his legs out, stretching to his full length in small fractions so that he didn't hurt himself even more than his Uncle already had. As he maneuvered himself around, he heart the floorboards creek in Dudley's room, the sound of a rolling chair, and the distinct crunch of a board being lifted. Seconds later the board was slapped back into place and Dudley's footsteps padded softly to stop in front of Harry's door. He could hear Dudley draw a deep breath, and exhale a heavy sigh before he knocked lightly on the locked and bolted door. Harry moaned in response.

It seemed that Dudley took it as permission when at once, all of the locks opened and the door swung in to reveal said teenager. His face was a mask of pain and shame, but his eyes were determined, shining brightly out from the darkness of the tiny room. Harry tried not to cry as he smiled at his cousin. They hadn't seen each other since Harry had left for his 4th year at Hogwarts and so many terrible things had happened.

"Blimey Harry," Dudley breathed, his hands trembling as they held the box of medical supplies close to his chest. With a swift hip-check, Dudley shut the door behind him and padded over to Harry's inadequate bed. He freed one hand and soothed it through Harry's too-long hair, stroking his thumb along a bruised cheek. Unable to speak without breaking out into sobbing, Harry leaned into the touch and allowed himself to be calmed by his cousin's magic. With Harry it had always been freakishness, with Dudley it was a talent. Hogwarts was not a prestigious enough school for darling Duddums, and so Harry was perpetually without the only living family member that loved him.

"It was worse…a couple weeks ago," Harry breathed, curiously observing the Eagle Owl that snuggled against Hedwig in greeting. He was glad that he could summon at least a little strength to speak, even if he didn't like the look that it left on Dudley's face.

"I got Draco's letter. You Know Who is back…I…did he really use your blood?" Dudley whispered, mixing the two halves of a healing paste together so that they would activate before spreading them along the first cuts that he saw. Harry hissed at the simultaneous burning and freezing sensation as his skin sewed itself back together. Knowing that he would never get used to the stuff didn't really help as Dudley applied it to cut after cut. He also didn't know how long they could pretend that it was Harry's magic doing the healing for them. Dudley had slipped up a few times in the last year, nearly revealing that he had never hated Harry before catching himself in time to avoid suspicion.

Both of them knew the consequences of Vernon discovering Dudley's affections as they had both been told many times: neither of them would be welcome in the home. It was one of the few things that had ever disturbed them enough to make them consider giving up on one another. But Dudley seemed to be made of sterner stuff than his father and was determined to protect Harry at all costs.

"He did. And he nearly killed Cedric…" Harry managed to say, before swallowing the dose of skele-gro that Dudley passed him. They had collectively stolen several curative potions from their respective Hospital Wings, and what they couldn't take, Dudley brewed, claiming it to be practice. The larger boy carefully gripped his cousin's hand as the pain of bones coming back to rights washed through him, sickening squelches and pops nearly making him vomit.

"Cedric? How did he wind up a target? I thought you told me that You Know Who was only after you," Dudley said, lifting Harry into a sitting position so that they could tend to his bruises, and possibly get him into some clothes. Vernon Dursley was a cold man, barely sparing enough love for his wife and child to keep from striking them; he had no such qualms about Harry. When drunk, he would talk loudly about how he loved to see the small teen naked and trembling from a beating, knowing that he had 'put the runt in his place' as he called it. Dudley called it torture and suspected his father of liking Harry's naked body for other reasons. Small and malnourished as he was, Harry could still be quite attractive; Dudley figured he had to be if a Pureblood like Draco Malfoy could call him beautiful.

"We were going to touch the Cup at the same time. Claim it for Hogwarts. But when we went to reach for it, one of the vines from the maze grabbed him by the ankle. I saw him fall just as it was taking me away," Harry said, as he leaned himself against Dudley. He was glad to be able to speak again and felt warmer pressed against his cousin's muscular torso. It had been so long since he had been ashamed to be naked in front of Dudley that he almost didn't know what it felt like. They were cousins after all, and brothers by oath, with all that Dudley had stood by Harry for, something like nudity seemed a trivial thing.

"You're happy about it, aren't you? That you went alone," Dudley whispered as he shrugged out of his jumper and slid it over Harry's head. His cousin was so small that it covered him to mid-thigh and hung like limp noodles over his hands.

"Yeah. Cedric was able to get a Patronus to the judges and they traced the portkey. Aurors are scary Dud, they come out of nowhere and they have this spell that chains people up. I don't think I want to be one. I know I said…well never mind what I said, that wasn't really Mad-Eye apparently," Harry replied and shimmied into the boxers that Dudley tossed to him. Dudley frowned fiercely, blue eyes focused on their owls in consideration.

"If they were able to track it so quickly…how did You Know Who have time to come back?" Dudley asked, helping Harry into pajama pants without a word. His cousin was much too bundled up for the fact that it was summer, but the house made both of them cold. It seemed to drain the magic out of their bodies, but the effect was worse in Harry's tiny room.

"The ritual was already started. The only thing missing was 'blood of the enemy, forcibly taken'. Wormtail is an idiot. Once he told me the step, I cut myself and bled into that damned cauldron. You Know Who is back alright, but he didn't come back the way he wanted," Harry said, grin as ferocious as the one worn by Sirius Black in the newspapers the year before. Dudley stilled, blinking slowly and looking at Harry carefully.

"You did what?" he breathed, almost not daring to believe what he had just heard.

"I gave birth to Tom Riddle, new, whole, a man such as he hasn't been in half a century. Neither can live, a prophecy said, while the other survives. The man called Voldemort has died. Now there is Harry Potter and Tom Riddle. And Tom Riddle has so many things to put right," Harry said, hugging Dudley fiercely when the other boy swept him up into an embrace. The darkness that had haunted Harry since he was an infant had been banished, and by such a simple act that it seemed unbelievable. Harry wasn't surprised when he felt himself crying against Dudley's shirt, or when he felt strong hands rubbing his back to stop the fit before it could hurt him.

"You are amazing Harry. Really, you are. I couldn't ask for a smarter or braver cousin, or brother," Dudley said softly before dragging Harry over to the small desk in the corner. He sat gently, cradling his still trembling cousin in his lap and pulled a pen and paper to himself. Having done the same thing the previous summer, he wrote out two different notes, one to Draco Malfoy, Harry's ever concerned boyfriend, and one to a new recipient, Tom Riddle. He told both of them his intention to reveal his true, brotherly relationship with Harry, and asked if one of them might be willing to find a place for Harry to stay. When he asked nothing for himself, Harry stole the pen and requested a place for Dudley, explaining shortly just what would happen upon such a revelation.

"Wait until we get a response before you tell them, please," Harry whispered, watching as Hedwig flew off with the letter for Tom and Dudley's owl Archie winged away to Draco's house. Dudley just gave him a nod before he allowed Harry to stand and attempt walking under his own power.

"I will wait, but you aren't sleeping in here tonight," Dudley replied, his hands hovering needlessly as Harry showed him that he could walk well enough unaided. The green-eyed teen threw him a triumphant smile, flapping the over-long sleeves of the jumper happily. Dudley smiled in return before motioning for Harry to follow him out of the tiny room and into the one labeled 'Dudley's Bedroom'.

The bed was large enough for them both to sleep like starfish and never touch one another, and they had done just that on a number of occasions. Each had their own blankets to curl up under so that no one's got stolen in the night. Harry climbed in at Dudley's urging while the other teen went to fetch Harry's school things.

He must have fallen asleep, he realized, as he felt the bed dip and the covers shift. Dudley shushed his inquisition by ruffling his hair and indicating the locked door and open window. In the darkened corner, Harry's school trunk sat with Hedwig's cage on top of it, Dudley had covered all bases, as he always did. With a soft pat to his back, he fell asleep once again, the darkness of the night, and the stress of a beating and subsequent healing effectively knocking him out.

Dudley sat up, his back pressed against his headboard as he watched Harry fall asleep. The streetlamps outside of his window were shining dull orange, making Harry look almost sickly when their glow combined with the blue glow from his muted television set. He couldn't believe that his fragile, abused, and malnourished cousin had circumvented the return of the darkest wizard in a century or more, with nothing more than a cut. And yet, that was exactly Harry. He sighed softly, stroking Harry's black hair and thinking that it should be anyone but him that comforted Harry. They loved each other like brothers, and that was true, but Harry had Sirius, he had Draco, and surely their love ought to be worth more than Dudley's own.

Hours later he was woken from the awkward position in which he dozed by the sound of the front door slamming and keys being pitched into the bowl on the side table. He froze and held his breath. Harry had jerked awake as well and seemed to shrink beneath the covers, shining green eyes peeking out from feathery depths. Heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs followed by lighter, smaller ones. The smaller ones continued past their hiding place while the heavy ones stopped outside of Harry's door. They both shivered as they heard the locks being undone and Harry's door slammed open.

"Hide," Dudley breathed, helping to bundle Harry and slowly lower him into the gap between the bed and the wall. He got his pillows and blankets resituated just as his father's fist slammed into his door. Feigning sleepiness, which was hard with his heart pounding a mile a minute, Dudley climbed out of bed and unlocked his door for his father, lest he himself suffer a smack across the face later.

"Where's the freak?" Vernon demanded, reeking of sherry and cigars. Dudley blinked and leaned out into the hall, looking toward Harry's room, appearing suitably confused.

"What do you mean?" he muttered and scrubbed one hand across his face. Vernon's face was purple and the vein in his forehead was thrumming like a hummingbird wing.

"The little shit isn't in his room, what do you think I mean you foul-blooded mistake," Vernon spat, and Dudley flinched. His father rarely insulted him to his face about the magic in his blood, and he didn't know how Harry stood up to it at all. Even his mother occasionally seemed secretly proud of Harry, and was openly proud of Dudley, less jealous of magic once she realized that she had given it to her son.

"Run off with the wrong sort I imagine. I told you, the madman that blew up Aunt Lily and Uncle James came back to finish him off. Could have stolen him right out of the window," Dudley said, making his voice as cold and uncaring as he could when he knew that his cousin lay trembling beneath the bed. Vernon seemed to pause before shoving Dudley forcibly into the room, knocking him to the bed.

"I wasn't done with him," Vernon growled and Harry had to swallow bile as he heard the distinct sound of Vernon removing his belt. Dudley was strong, and he could fight back, but somehow, Harry was certain that it wasn't a beating that his Uncle wished to dole out. He hated himself for being so weak that he couldn't get out from the blankets Dudley had cocooned around him.

"Get out of my room," Dudley shrieked, his fear obvious as Vernon advanced drunkenly stomping forward.

"You let him get away. Don't think you won't take his place," the red-faced whale of a man growled.

"Actually, that is exactly what I think," said a clear, cold, baritone voice, one that Harry loved to hate. He knew that both he and Dudley were safe if Professor Snape had turned up to help. Harry squirmed forward to peek out from under the bed, watching Snape advance from the window that he had come in through, his wand trained on Vernon. The drunken bastard seemed to sputter before a number of rapid-fire hexes slammed into him, leaving him bound and gagged, screaming in muffled agony.

Without missing a beat, Snape stooped down and gently pulled Harry from beneath the bed. He freed the teen from the bundle and placed him on the bed, where Harry flung his arms tightly around the silently crying Dudley. The Professor watched the display without expression, but Harry knew that he was torn apart inside by rage and worry. In the last year or two, he had all but adopted Harry, protecting him and caring for him when he could. Harry knew that it was only Dudley's prodding that had forced him to swallow his fear and sit down with the intimidating man and make his confessions. After that, they had bonded quite closely, enough that Snape didn't seem to mind wrapping both teens in a comforting hug.

"Professor," Harry whispered brokenly and earned himself a gentle kiss on the head. Snape stepped back and leveled a glare at Petunia where she stood staring in horror at the sight of Vernon. There was a long moment where he did nothing save stare at the woman, eyes critical and eyebrows drawn down. When he gave a silent flick of his wand all three paused to stare at the wave of fury that flashed in her eyes. Dudley stared in mute wonder as his mother kicked Vernon fiercely, her face white with her anger. And it was Harry's turn to feel his jaw drop as she stepped over Vernon and folded herself into Snape's outstretched arm.

"Ah, Severus, good to see you beat me to it," Tom's voice was soft, and he carried an obviously sleepy Draco on his back, Harry couldn't have been happier to see the other boy if he tried. Too much weirdness was going on around him for his mind to process anything other than the reality that he and Dudley were safe and that Draco was hugging him and kissing his face.

"I couldn't fathom having been a second later," Severus replied, resting his chin atop Petunia's head, and casting a pitying gaze toward Dudley. The man once known as Voldemort frowned, obviously feeling like he didn't understand the situation.

"He's always…hurting Harry. Can't stand magic…I don't…oh Sev, what happened," Petunia said, and it seemed to be explanation enough for the former Dark Lord. Confident grey eyes grew hard and cold, fixing of Vernon as they did so.

"I don't know. You were under the control of an Unforgivable. You have been for a very long time," the Professor said, trying to find the words to explain what had happened for himself. But there were none to be had. He didn't know what could have happened for Petunia to have been stolen from his mind or her heart from his hands. What he did know, was that dark magic had done it, and that he was never going to let go again.

"It's Wormtail's work. He resented you for being the favorite. You had one foot in the Light and the other in the Dark and he resented the balance you had. I see now what he meant when he said he'd taken away your Light. I am sorry Severus," Tom said and sounded as if he meant it sincerely. Snape merely nodded and looked toward where the three boys sat huddled on the bed, comforting one another as best they could.

"Mum?" Dudley dared to ask, and Petunia smiled reassuringly, nodding in confirmation.

"Take them all home Severus. I will deliver this scum to Azkaban myself," Tom said and tossed an old necktie from a Slytherin uniform to the Professor. Snape did not need telling twice and wrapped one of each of their hands in the material. Tom quietly spoke a word and Harry was forced to close his eyes against the nauseating feeling of traveling again by portkey, telling himself that he was safe. He felt Draco's free arm tighten around him in reassurance, and was able to land on his feet, breathing evenly, he was finally safe.


End file.
